


The Blood Inheritance

by pravenclaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pravenclaw/pseuds/pravenclaw
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy embarks on a journey to understand the illness which claimed his mother's life, but soon learns that some secrets are better kept than said. How far is Scorpius willing to go to break the blood malediction?Cursed Child compliant.





	1. Tea and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius Malfoy visits the home of his Aunt Daphne, desperate to know more about his family history.

Scorpius knocked at the door three times and stepped back. He did a quick scan of the street just to ascertain that he was at the right house. The street was quiet, though not eerily so. All the houses in the street were large and grand. Every door was painted black, as were the high windows. They all had the same wrought iron gate that squeaked at the slightest touch, framed by tidy laurel bushes.

Scorpius took a deep breath just as the door swung open. A woman was stood just behind it. Jet-black hair neatly pinned back. She wore robes of a pale-green colour. The two studied each other a while, both unsure of what to say. She was askance and apprehensive. But so was Scorpius.

It was Scorpius who made the first move.

‘Hello, Aunt Daphne,’ he said in a warm, clear voice. His heart was beating fast.

Daphne Greengrass’s face broke out into a smile.

‘Scorpius,’ she said softly. ‘Do come in. Would you like a cup of tea?’

The hallway beyond had faded blue walls and grey carpets. Central to the room was a large staircase with carved ebony bannisters, leading to the first floor. Hanging along the walls were a set of large portraits, their subjects all squinting and craning their necks to get a good look at Scorpius.

‘We’ll have our tea in here,’ said Daphne, indicating the first door to the left. ‘Don’t mind the portraits; they’re not used to visitors.’

Scorpius followed his aunt into what he knew to be the drawing room. It was cosier than he’d expected. Lighter than he thought it would be. It was pristine and neat, not a thing out of place. Daphne had Scorpius sit in a chair by the fire.

‘You know, when I was a girl this place was teaming with house-elves. They were never seen, of course, but we knew they were there. That was the way back then. The only elf we ever saw was our dear, old nanny.’ She laughed suddenly, as memories she had long-forgotten resurfaced. ‘Astoria and I, we’d sometimes – sorry – ’

‘ – No, go on,’ beamed Scorpius. ‘What would you do?’

‘Well, we’d sometimes go into the library and leave out books and place them all over the room. We’d just scatter them all about. Then we’d hide under the desk and wait for the elves to come in to clean. We never did see them,’ said Daphne. ‘We’d get bored and tidy the books ourselves long before they made an appearance.’

Scorpius grinned at the idea of his Mum, a young girl, getting up to mischief in this very house. Daphne watched him closely, as if reading his thoughts. Her smile faltered.

‘I’ll just go make that tea them,’ said Daphne. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

She left the room and walked across the hallway and through a door on the opposite side.

There was only one painting in the room, which struck Scorpius as odd in a house as grand as this one. It hung above the fireplace, a green vase at either side. It was a landscape of some rugged coastline painted in vivid colours. There were jagged rocks of all sizes in the foreground, which were shielding the sandy beach Scorpius couldn’t quite see but knew was there.

The scene was almost alive. He could almost hear the sound the rolling waves as they crashed against the base of the cliffs, and the seagulls soaring overhead. Grassy verges leading to the cliff edge swayed and danced in the imaginary breeze. Scorpius could almost taste the briskness and saltiness of the air, as if he were looking through an open window facing the scene. It was enchanting.

‘Your mother painted that,’ said a voice behind Scorpius, startling him somewhat. His aunt had re-entered the room carrying a silver tea tray. ‘She was probably a little younger than you are now,’ Daphne continued. ‘We went on holiday to Cornwall one year and Astoria, she was into painting at the time, she painted that from the window of her room.’

Daphne set the tray down on the table and sat down in the chair opposite Scorpius. She began pouring the tea, occasionally glancing back up towards the picture. She stirred in two spoons of sugar in each cup, then pushed one in Scorpius’s direction. She sat back and placed her hands on her lap.

‘So, what would you like to know?’ said Daphne suddenly. ‘Your letter was brief.’

Scorpius immediately took a sip; his mouth was as dry as parchment. But the tea was too hot. He swallowed it quickly, almost choking on the heat as it glided uncomfortably down his throat.

He paused a moment. Scorpius had been waiting for this opportunity for around two years now. Ever since his mother, Astoria, had died. He was keen to learn more about the hereditary blood curse which had claimed her life. And now, when the opportunity had finally arrived, Scorpius didn’t know quite what to say.

Scorpius had been kept in the dark about her illness for a long time. He knew she tired easily, occasionally taking herself off to bed even though it was still light out, for he was a precocious child who noticed every little thing. Nothing was a secret from Scorpius for long. But he wasn’t able to link that up with his mother’s regular disappearances. Scorpius was about eight-years-old when he finally asked his Mum outright where she went so often.

He remembered her frowning. ‘_Hospital_,’ she said, with tears in her eyes. His Mum told Scorpius a lot more from that moment on. He had taken to checking up on her a lot of the time, making sure she was alright and comfortable.

He hated leaving her to return to Hogwarts each term, despite how much he enjoyed the experience. Scorpius would write to her a few days a week checking how she was. Towards the close of his second year at Hogwarts, those letters became more frequent. She had been ill from around Easter time that year.

Scorpius would write daily. His Mum’s letters arrived promptly, at first, urging him not to worry, reminding him to work hard and to always try his best. And Scorpius did just that. For her. His mother would send him one letter for every two of his. After a while his Mum barely replied at all. And when she did her writing was shaky and almost indecipherable. Weakness had taken control of her now. His mother was dying, and everyone knew it.

Scorpius wasn’t in the room when his mother eventually did slip away. His dad had made sure of it. He told him just after breakfast. It was the first time Scorpius had seen his father cry. It was peaceful at the end, he was told. She was no longer in pain. Astoria Malfoy could finally rest.

‘You wish to know more about her?’ said Daphne loudly, cutting through Scorpius’s thoughts. ‘You wish to know more about the curse. I see it written across your face.’

Scorpius nodded. His mouth wasn’t hot anymore.

‘There’s only so much Dad could tell me – or wanted to tell me,’ he said.

Daphne rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. Scorpius knew the relationship between his dad and aunt was fraught. They hadn’t seen each since his mother’s funeral. Daphne would send Scorpius a birthday card every year, as well as money at Christmas, but that was all.

‘He wants to protect me, I know that,’ said Scorpius. ‘He doesn’t know I’m here.’

Daphne sighed and took another sip of her tea.

‘Well you were bound to want answers. I think I always knew you’d come looking for them eventually. What do you already know?’

‘An ancestor was cursed,’ said Scorpius, as he leaned forward. ‘My Dad called it a _blood malediction_ – he said it passed down through the family, but only my Mum was affected.’

Daphne nodded. ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘How much do you know of our family history?’

Scorpius sat back in his seat again. He knew some bits. He could remember his Mum talking about some family members. Her mother who bred Crups, and the aunt she didn’t much like. He had tried to glean some things from his father without raising suspicion.

‘Not much at all,’ said Scorpius. ‘I know I was named after my grandfather – _Hyperion_ – that’s what Mum told me anyway. Hyperion Greengrass,’ he repeated. ‘Such a grand name. You know, I once looked him up in the old school records? Prefect, Head Boy, school prizes and trophies engraved with his name. Impressive stuff.’

‘He really was. He was handsome and tall,’ smiled Daphne. ‘Strict at times, mind, but he was a big softy really. He doted on us girls.’

Scorpius grinned. He remembered his Mum saying the exact same thing.

‘And his father, my grandfather, was called Sylvanus,’ said Daphne, pausing to drink, ‘he worked for the Ministry. He wasn’t a great supporter of Nobby Leach, I seem to remember my father telling me. Very pro-pureblood. We’ll say no more about that…’

‘And was he affected by the curse, by the_ blood malediction_?’

‘Sylvanus?’ said Daphne. ‘No – no, you’ve got your wands crossed there. My grandmother was the carrier – Sylvanus’s wife.’

‘Sorry. Wait. Hang on. I’ve always believed the curse came down the Greengrass line?’

Daphne shook her head and sipped her tea.

‘Her name was Apollonia.’

Scorpius repeated the name, muttering every syllable. Her name rolled joyfully from his tongue. An unusual name; he’d certainly never heard it before.

‘She was half-Greek,’ continued Daphne. ‘We called her Yaya. Mad, old woman, she was. We’d get bags of sweets every time she came to visit,’ she remembered fondly. ‘There’s a portrait of her out in the hall.’

Daphne drank from her cup again, which reminded Scorpius to drink his too. There wasn’t enough sugar in it, he decided, as he waited for Daphne to press on.

‘When Astoria took ill for the first time, all the Healers thought it was dragonpox. Her early symptoms were quite similar. Yaya only told them about the curse once they realised how serious her illness was. I think my mother resented her from that day on. She blamed my Yaya, I think.’

‘And how much did Apollonia – sorry – how much did Yaya know about the curse?’

Daphne shrugged.

‘She must’ve known a bit, but how much I couldn’t even guess. Astoria and I thought it was just a story. We thought it an old wives’ tale. Nothing more was ever said about it. Astoria’s health came first, they didn’t care about where it came from. That’s all I know, anyway.’

Scorpius drummed his fingers on his leg, as was a habit of his. He always did it whenever he was excited or anxious, or both.

‘Mum must’ve been examined or tested by Healers, surely? There must be a record of their findings, or what they believed the curse to be exactly?’

‘I suspect so, but I’m not sure what records they keep,’ said Daphne. She was looking fidgety all of sudden. Uncomfortable. ‘She was frequently in St Mungo’s as a girl, and Madam Pomfrey looked after her when she was old enough to go to Hogwarts.’

Daphne had that same worn look that Scorpius had seen in his mother. He knew that look, and he knew when to stop.

‘That’s really all I know, Scorpius,’ said Daphne.

She set her cup down and that was that. Scorpius didn’t wish to press her any further, he could see how it affected her.

They chatted for an hour longer. Scorpius listened and talked, but his mind was elsewhere. He tried his best to hold onto all his Aunt Daphne had said. He wished he’d brought a notebook, but his aunt may have found that a bit rude. Scorpius had learnt a lot in a short space of time. It was more than he’d expected but much less than he’d hoped for.

The portraits of Scorpius’s ancestors watched him closely as Daphne escorted him back out into the hallway. The back of his neck prickled as they scanned his every movement. One of the younger wizards waved at him from out of his portrait.

The portrait hanging by the door was of an elderly witch sat upright in her chair. She was snoring softly. Her hair was grey, her skin dark and mottled with age spots. The witch was wearing emerald-green robes and had a matching pointed hat on her head. There were many jewelled rings on her fingers. Pressed up against the wall beneath the portrait was a handsome dresser with a marble top, on which a large vase of flowers was placed.

‘This is my Yaya – Apollonia Greengrass,’ whispered Daphne. ‘The artist captured her at a moment of exhaustion, it seems; she’s barely ever awake. She lived to a grand old age; the curse didn’t affect her at all.’

‘Couldn’t we – ’

‘ – Ask her about the curse? I’m not sure portraits work like that, Scorpius. And I found it’s best not to mention Astoria around her, she gets awfully upset. It’s rather difficult to console a painting, as you can imagine. I remember she wailed for days when your mother died.’

Daphne carefully pulled opened the drawer of the marble top dresser. Inside was a leather-bound book with a woven spine, and a few white handkerchiefs.

‘This photograph album belonged to my Yaya,’ said Daphne, taking out the leather-bound book. ‘She liked to keep track of the family, and she’d annotate the photos inside. Dates and names and things. I thought you might like to have it.’

Daphne held the album out towards Scorpius and beamed at him. Scorpius had never seen just how alike his aunt and mother were until that moment.

‘Ar – are you sure?’

‘Of course,’ said Daphne. ‘Who else should have it? I’ve no other family, after all. It’s yours now. It may prove more helpful than I’ve been today.’

‘Thank you, Aunt Daphne,’ said Scorpius heartily, ‘for everything.’ He took the book from her and hugged it tight to his chest.

Daphne smiled again and kissed Scorpius on the cheek.

‘You’re welcome here anytime,’ she said. ‘This was your mother’s home. _Remember that_.’

Scorpius left the house, his aunt’s words ringing in his ears. He walked down the garden path and through the wrought iron gate and by the laurel bushes, still clasping tightly onto his great-grandmother’s photograph album. On the corner of the street was a boy leaning against a post box. He was looking up towards the sky, his bright-green eyes scanning the clouds above. The boy turned to face Scorpius as he approached.

‘Well? How’d it go?’ said Albus Potter.

***


	2. The Burrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius returns from his visit to his aunt's, carrying more than just his great-grandmother's old photograph album. A picture tells a thousand words, so they say...

‘Do you think anyone noticed we were gone?’ said Albus as he stepped out of the fireplace.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Scorpius, still dusting ash from his clothes.

Albus looked around the kitchen carefully. The place seemed quiet and deserted.

‘They’ll be around somewhere,’ he said. ‘We’ll sneak back up to the orchard and get our brooms, hopefully no one has – ’

‘HI!’

Rose jumped out from behind the doorway, startling them both. Albus would’ve fell back into the fireplace if not for Scorpius, who managed to grab him by the back of his jumper. He was gripping tightly onto his great-grandmother’s photo album with the other hand.

‘Rose! Why do you insist on doing that every time?’ scowled Albus.

‘You two make it blatantly obvious you’re up to something, you do realise that?’ she said, her hands placed firmly on her hips. ‘Whispering in corners, going quiet whenever someone enters the room. I’m surprised no one else picked up on it. I’ve spent most of the day trying to keep Grandma away from that clock!’

Rose grumbled and sat down in the armchair by the fireplace, tightly crossing her arms.

Albus and Scorpius looked through into the living room, where they knew stood a magnificent grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It wasn’t a normal clock. It had over twenty hands, each engraved with the name of a different family member. Around the face were locations of where those family members at that exact moment. Scorpius was rather impressed by it. He knew that the gold hand bearing Albus’s name would now be resting on ‘The Burrow.’

‘Where is everyone?’ said Albus.

‘Granddad Weasley’s tinkering in the garage, Hugo is helping Grandma out in the garden, and James and Lily are up in Uncle George’s old room. He let slip to them both last night that he and Uncle Fred hid some of their old prototypes in there, so of course they’re trying to find them.’

Scorpius nodded. He had often heard Albus’s mum remark how much James and Lily took after her mischievous brothers. James in particular looked most like the Weasley family, if not for his jet-black hair, he’d have been identical to Ron, Rose’s dad. They both had the same devilish sort of smile.

‘Well, where have you two been then?’

Albus and Scorpius exchanged looks. Rose looked at them suspiciously.

‘Well, we...’ began Albus. ‘We – ’

‘ – I went to see my Aunt Daphne. Albus came for moral support,’ said Scorpius plainly.

‘What? You’re actually going to tell her?’ said Albus.

‘Your mum’s sister?’ said Rose, completely ignoring Albus. She uncrossed her arms. ‘Why should that be a secret?’

‘It’s complicated,’ said Scorpius.

They looked in the direction of the open door which lead out into the yard, where the voices belonging to Mrs Weasley and Hugo could now be heard.

‘Not here,’ added Scorpius. ‘Come on.’

They went out from the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to the staircase. Scorpius took the stairs three at a time, closely followed by Albus and Rose. They zigzagged up the stairs, only stopping once they had reached the fifth landing.

Scorpius opened the door, immediately ducking down to avoid hitting his head on the sloping ceiling. He had bumped his head the first time and almost given himself concussion.

The room had originally belonged to Ron, he had been told. There were still remnants of his childhood in there. A couple of large Chudley Cannon posters remained plastered on the walls, fixed with Permanent Sticking Charms, and the cream walls were stained with an orange tinge in places. This was the third time Scorpius had stayed at The Burrow with the Weasleys and the Potters, and every time he had shared the room with Albus.

Rose closed the door behind them and paused to catch her breath.

‘Dad and Aunt Daphne don’t get on,’ said Scorpius without warning. ‘I don’t know the ins and outs of it, but they’re not on good terms. Haven’t been for years.’

Scorpius sat down the bed closest to the window, setting his great-grandmother’s photograph album down beside him.

‘I remember they got into this big argument shortly after Mum died. I was in the library, but I could still hear them shouting. Aunt Daphne said some things… Dad yelled at her. He called her a “_bitter old witch_,” I remember, and told her to never set foot in the house again. And then she was gone.’

Albus sat down on the floor by the bed.

‘You never said,’ he said softly.

Scorpius shrugged.

‘Aunt Daphne came to the funeral – you may remember – but she and Dad didn’t speak.’

Rose joined Scorpius on the bed.

‘So why did you visit your Aunt today?’ she said.

‘It seemed like the perfect opportunity,’ said Scorpius getting to his feet. ‘There’s just us here this time. Everyone’s busy getting ready to go back to school. There’s less chance of people noticing I’m gone. Dad need never know.’

Scorpius wasn’t aware he’d been fidgeting with his hands and stopped as soon as he did.

‘And it’s been weighing on my mind a lot lately,’ he said, turning away from Albus and Rose. ‘I have to know more.’

‘About what?’ asked Rose.

‘About the curse, of course! I have to know more about the _thing_ that killed her! Wouldn’t you want to know? It fed off her, like a parasite. It drained her of everything she was. It took everything from her. From me!’

Scorpius was pacing the floor, the old floorboards creaking under his weight. Albus sat still, saying nothing. Rose’s face dropped. She looked horrified.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he said to Rose. ‘I shouldn’t have shouted. I’m sorry.’

‘No, you’re right, Scorpius. I’d want to know too.’

A most profound silence followed. Scorpius took a few deep breaths and told Albus and Rose everything his aunt had said, not omitting a single detail. Albus would occasionally open his mouth to speak, but a single glare from Rose in his direction was sufficient enough to allow Scorpius to carry on with his story.

‘And then as I was leaving, Aunt Daphne gave me this,’ said Scorpius, holding out the photograph album.

The landing creaked suddenly, and Scorpius quickly shoved the album under the bed. Just then, the door swung open and Mrs Weasley entered. Scorpius smiled, trying his best not to appear guilty.

‘There you all are!’ she said. ‘I wondered where you three had got to.’

She crossed the room and began folding the school robes Albus had left at the bottom of his bed. Scorpius and Rose had already finished their packing. Albus had started at least three times in the past few days but every time got distracted by something, and now he seemed to have given up entirely.

‘Albus, I need you to come and help with dinner. You can peel the carrots,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘Then you can come back up here and finish packing. The train leaves tomorrow!’

Albus groaned and muttered something under his breath.

‘Dinner won’t make itself!’

‘What is for dinner?’

‘There’s a bit of everything, just in case anyone else turns up. And there’s treacle pudding for afters, your favourite,’ coaxed Mrs Weasley.

‘Would you like my help with anything, Mrs Weasley?’ said Scorpius.

‘No thank you, Scorpius, dear,’ she replied with a warm smile.

Albus groaned again.

‘Why does he get a free ride and I don’t?’ moaned Albus.

‘Because,’ said Mrs Weasley, ‘Scorpius is a guest. And Rose has already helped me today, before you ask.’

Albus dragged his feet as he left with Mrs Weasley. Rose waited until their footsteps could no longer be heard before turning to Scorpius once more.

‘Have you looked inside it then?’ she said. ‘The album.’

Scorpius shook his head and sat down beside her. He took a deep breath and reached under the bed and pulled it out. He held it in his hands a moment, staring blankly down at the cover.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Rose as she got up to leave.

‘No, no, I’d like you to be here,’ said Scorpius. He reached forward and caught her wrist. ‘_Stay_,’ he said. Rose shot him a tight-lipped smile and sat back down.

Scorpius tried to carefully prise open the album. It resisted him somewhat. Finally, on the third try, the spine made a sharp cracking noise and the book flopped open.

‘Interesting,’ whispered Rose. ‘Did you see how you struggled at first? I’ve read about charms like that. I don’t think you’d be able to open that book unless you were family.’

Scorpius nodded but made no sound. He was too busy looking at the loose photograph which had fallen out onto his lap. His Mum waved to him from out of the photo.

She was holding him, the baby Scorpius, in one arm. Her dark eyes were bright and full of life. His Dad was smiling proudly at her side.

Scorpius turned the photo over and read the writing on the back. It was in his Mum’s neat handwriting.

_Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy_  
_ Aged 2 days_

‘I’ve never seen this one before,’ said Scorpius. His eyes felt heavy all of a sudden. Rose took the photo and sighed.

‘You should keep that one. It’s lovely,’ she said.

‘My Mum looks well there, bu – but I know she wasn’t,’ stammered Scorpius. ‘Dad said it was a miracle that she survived giving birth to me.’

Rose found his hand and squeezed it. Scorpius took back the photo and tucked it inside the book on the bedside table. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and turned back to the open album.

The first few pages had photographs of people Scorpius recognised: photos of his Mum and Aunt when they were girls; one of his grandfather, Hyperion Greengrass, looking solemn in an armchair by the fire; another was of his grandmother, Cordelia, standing at the foot of the stairs in an elegant red dress. She looked remarkably like Aunt Daphne, Scorpius thought.

Like Daphne had said, every photo was accompanied by an annotation. Things like: “_Daphne & Astoria, Christmas Day, 1991_,” “_Hyperion & Cordelia on their wedding day_,” or “_Sylvanus Actaeon Greengrass, Wizengamot, 1972._”

Finally, they came across a photograph of his great-grandmother herself as a young woman, though Scorpius recognised her from the portrait hanging in his Aunt Daphne’s house. Apollonia was a tall woman with dark features. She smiled and bowed her head to Scorpius and Rose in turn. She had written “_Myself – Apollonia Pantazis, aged 19,_” alongside.

‘That’s a new name,’ said Scorpius. He felt exhilarated all of sudden. ‘The Pantazises must’ve been a Greek pureblood family, or presumably Sylvanus and Apollonia wouldn’t have been allowed to marry.’

On the next page was a photo of a young wizard wearing loose-fitting robes, cream in colour. He had a handsome face and large, kind eyes framed by strong eyebrows and a mop of dark, curly hair.

‘He looks like you a bit,’ said Rose, ‘if you squint.’

Scorpius laughed.

‘I wonder who he could be,’ said Scorpius. ‘There’s no name written here.’

‘It might be written in invisible ink,’ Rose suggested. ‘Or charmed or something? I won’t tell if you don’t.’

‘What?’ said Scorpius, but before he could react Rose had already taken out her wand and tapped the page a few times.

‘_Aparecium!_’ she whispered.

Scorpius jumped back in horror. The photograph album fell to the floor with a soft thud.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ he said. ‘You might get into trouble!’

Rose shrugged and giggled.

‘Nobody needs to know. And anyway, I – ’

‘You two aren’t _kissing_, are you?’

Hugo, Rose’s younger brother, had materialised in the doorway, one hand covering his eyes. He was rather tall for his age and was completely covered in dark freckles.

‘What?’ cried Scorpius and Rose at the same time. They inched apart from each other.

‘Of course not!’ said Rose.

‘Oh, good,’ said Hugo, lowering his hand at once. ‘Do you have any Fizzing Whizzbees left, Scorpius? I can’t wait for dinner.’

Scorpius nodded. His face was feeling very warm all of a sudden. Hugo crossed the floor and reached out towards the open sweet bag on the table by Scorpius’s bed. Rose quickly snatched them up.

‘Why did you think we’d be kissing?’ she said fiercely.

‘I don’t know, Dad said you might be,’ shrugged Hugo. ‘He said if I caught you two kissing, I had to launch myself between you both. He said he’d give me ten galleons. Can I have those?’

Rose grumbled and threw the Fizzing Whizzbees in Hugo’s direction. He caught them in one hand and promptly left the room.

‘I – am – going – to – _kill_ – him,’ said Rose. ‘He’s so embarrassing. Mum’s always saying he needs to grow up, but – ’

‘– Rose!’

‘– And to go as far as to send Hugo to spy on me! I swear, I’m going to – ’

‘– Rose, look!’

Scorpius had picked up the album and was staring at the page they had last been looking at. A few lines of writing had now appeared beside the photograph of the young wizard. The top line was in what looked to be Greek, but the rest was in English.

_Hyperion Pantazis,_  
_ 17-years-old_

_15th September 1910,_  
_ Shaftesbury Avenue, London_

Scorpius and Rose looked at each other in amazement.

‘_Hyperion_,’ whispered Scorpius, ‘of course. He must’ve been Yaya’s father.’

‘Wait, Scorpius,’ said Rose. ‘What does that say underneath?’

Scorpius looked closely at the faint pencil marks beneath the wizard’s name and traced the words with his finger.

_Before Azkaban._

Scorpius’s eyes flicked upwards towards the now grinning face of his namesake and frowned. His ancestor was a criminal.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Weasley Clock has 25 hands on it now... because it absolutely would.


	3. An Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though they have their doubts, Albus and Rose agree to help Scorpius in his quest to break his family curse. Just how far is he willing to go?

Autumn had arrived at Hogwarts. The fires in the castle had been lit to fight off the biting chill which came down from the snowcapped mountains each day; the trees were a blaze of golds and reds; and a low mist hung ominously over the lake. But, for the first time, Scorpius hadn’t noticed any of it.

For the past couple of months, Scorpius had poured over his great-grandmother’s photograph album, keen to learn more about the history of his family’s curse. He’d often see Albus and Rose exchange worried looks and uncomfortable glances whenever he failed to join in their conversations about Quidditch matches, revision, or how difficult their exams that year might be.

Often his mind would wander to Hyperion Pantaziz, his criminal ancestor, whose nefarious history had been purposely kept hidden by someone in the family.

On the first day of term, Scorpius had gone straight to the library to find anything on him, but there didn’t seem to be any trace of Hyperion in the old copies of the _Daily Prophet_ held there. He did find a brief mention of him in an updated version of the _Sacred Twenty-Eight_ from 1962, as a footnote in the chapter detailing the history of the Greengrass family, but it didn’t leave much to go on.

_**SYLVANUS ACTAEON GREENGRASS**, of Piccadilly, London, Int. Magical Office of Law, Dept. of Int. Magical Cooperation, b. 4 April 1915;_  
_ m. 15 February 1949, Miss Apollonia Mary Pantaziz, daughter of Hyperion Pantaziz, and has issue;_  
_ 1\. HYPERION REMIGIUS GREENGRASS, b. 19 March 1952_

Scorpius copied out the entry and slid it into the family photograph album, but he’d found nothing since. He was firmly stuck.

‘Have you finished your potions homework, Albus?’ said Rose one day.

A group of them had come down to sit under the large beech tree by the lake between lessons. Scorpius and Albus were sat with their backs against the tree, while Rose sat cross-legged in front, turning her wand slowly in her hand.

As the leaves fell from the branches overhead, they were caught in a gentle breeze of Rose’s making. They spiralled down balletically, like tiny boats caught in an invisible whirlpool. They were a rather pretty sight. Rose amused herself by having the leaves land in Albus’s hair. She was exceptionally good at Charms.

Yann Fredericks and Polly Chapman were sat a little away from them, eyes firmly locked on each other, as usual, giggling. Karl Jenkins was beside them, cloud gazing, and trying not to look too much like a gooseberry.

‘I have,’ said Albus. ‘You know, I’d let you copy if you asked,’ he added with a smirk.

‘I do not copy!’ blushed Rose. She lowered her wand; the leaves dropped like stones around them. Albus laughed heartily.

‘I have no reason to copy, thank you very much! I like to compare, that’s all. You could look at mine if you wanted!’

She shot her cousin a dirty look, which made him laugh all the more. He nodded, looking not at all convinced.

‘What about you, Scorpius? _Scorpius_?’

Scorpius turned to face Rose. He blinked a few times.

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘what were we talking about?’

‘Albus and _I_ were discussing the potions homework.’

Scorpius gave his apologies but said nothing more. Rose shuffled closer to him.

‘Are you all right, Scorpius?’ she said.

He could feel both pairs of eyes on him. He frowned and hugged his robes in closer.

‘I can’t stop thinking about her – Mum – the curse, all of it. I’m feeling entirely consumed by it all.’ He laughed, nervously, but Albus and Rose showed only concern.

‘Mate, is now really the best time? We have some pretty big exams coming up. Do you not think that – _maybe_ – it’s time to drop this? Just for now, at least. I know how important this is to you, I understand, I do, but – ’

‘Do you, Albus? Do you really?’

Beside him, Rose grimaced. A painful second passed before Albus spoke again.

‘Well – no – of course not. I can’t, not really,’ said Albus. ‘But I’m trying to.’

‘We both are,’ nodded Rose. ‘But this has changed you, Scorpius, we’ve both said so. When you’re with us, it’s like you’re not really here. You’re not concentrating in lessons, barely turning in your homework on time, completely neglecting your prefect duties,’ she said, counting off the list on her fingers. ‘This isn’t like you.’

Scorpius’s eyes welled with tears. He struggled to fight them back.

‘I know,’ he managed to say, though his mouth and throat suddenly felt very dry. ‘I know.’

Scorpius wiped away his tears on the sleeves of his robes. To his relief, neither Yann, Polly nor Karl seemed to have noticed. Nor were any of them listening to their conversation, in fact, Karl seemed to have fallen asleep.

‘I just wish there was some way of finding more out about the curse itself, from a professional perspective, I mean. If I could simply find out how it manifests itself, how it takes hold, or what spells they tried, or treatments they prescribed – I could understand it better. I could maybe find a way to stop it.’

‘Stop it? You mean you’re going to try to break the curse yourself?’ said Albus.

‘Someone has to. Why not me?’

‘Scorpius. Listen to me,’ said Rose. ‘You told me so yourself. This is an extremely potent multigenerational curse that powerful Healers – ’

‘Yes, but – ’

‘ – failed to understand after years and years of research into your Mum’s condition. What makes you think you’d be able to succeed where they failed? You’re not even seventeen yet!’

‘Well, to paraphrase your cousin here, your parents proved you don’t have to be grown up to change the wizarding world.’

Albus and Rose both groaned. That had definitely sounded better in his head.

‘But there’s no way you could, Scorpius. Medical records are private. They’re just not accessible; there’s all sorts of laws in place.’

‘Well, I’m been thinking about that and I have an idea –’

‘How did I know you were going to say that?’ sighed Albus.

‘Madam Pomfrey is bound to have kept records from the time my Mum went here,’ continued Scorpius. ‘I’m sure Mrs Longbottom will still have them. What if I managed to get into her office somehow and found them? It’s like you say, there’s no way she’d just hand them over if I asked, and anyway she’ll only tell Dad, and I don’t want him to know or ask for his help. This is the only way.’

‘Are you mad? I can’t believe you’re even suggesting thi – ’

‘She was my Mum, Rose! A-and she’s gone, and there’s nothing anyone can do about that now. But I’d like t-to know more about it – so I can understand and move on from it. Imagine you were in my shoes – just for a second – wouldn’t you do the same?’

Albus shrugged and clenched his jaw but said nothing. He looked between Scorpius and Rose, who started biting her bottom lip. She opened her mouth but paused a moment longer. He watched as Rose licked her upper teeth, a habit of hers which Scorpius had seen many times before, mostly in lessons. Scorpius had noticed she did it whenever she was thinking about something.

‘OK. Fine. But we’ll need to be smart about this.’

‘_We_?’ blinked Scorpius. ‘Y-you’re going to help me?’ he said, trying not to sound too amazed.

‘Of course, I’ll help. Need I remind you what happened the last time you two cooked up some hare-brained scheme?’ Rose grinned. Her eyes lingered a while, locking with his for a second or two before she looked away. Scorpius beamed back at her, his heart soaring. He tried his hardest not to blush.

‘And you’re in, too, Albus?’

‘Hmm,’ he drawled out, pausing to ruffle his dark hair. He took a deep breath; unaware a few brown leaves had just fallen from the top of his head.

‘Always,’ he said with a smirk.

Scorpius found himself at a loss for words. His face felt all warm and fuzzy all of a sudden. He felt incredibly humbled.

‘OK, so how are we going to get into Hannah’s office without her seeing? She’s very observant,’ said Albus.

Scorpius drummed his leg with his fingers, looking over the lawn up towards the castle. Polly giggled suddenly, a shrill laugh which caught him by surprise. Rose jumped too.

‘I have an idea,’ she said, turning back to face them. Her dark-brown eyes flashed mischievously.

***


	4. Albus Unburdened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius, Albus and Rose manage to get into Mrs Longbottom's office, but will their mission be a success?

Somehow, Rose managed to rope Polly and Yann into the plan. Karl Jenkins had outright refused to help, not wishing to risk the loss of his Prefect badge.

Madam Pomfrey, the old school matron, had retired at the end of their fourth year. Professor Longbottom’s wife, Hannah, had been given the job. She was a jolly woman who always smiled at Scorpius and Albus whenever they passed her in the corridor.

They agreed to create some sort of diversion forcing Mrs Longbottom to leave the Hospital Wing unattended, allowing Scorpius, Albus and Rose to sneak in undetected.

Scorpius knew they would need to act fast. They needed to draw Mrs Longbottom as far away from the Hospital Wing as possible. None of them had been inside Mrs Longbottom’s office before, only that she would occasionally disappear into it and come out carrying a draught or two.

They would do it that Friday before lunch, Rose decided. They, Rose, Albus and Scorpius, would station themselves near the Hospital Wing at the beginning of their free period following morning break. Yann and Polly were to be up on the seventh floor outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room where they’d cause a diversion requiring Mrs Longbottom’s most urgent attention.

Sure enough, shortly after 11 o’clock, Yann came flying down the stairs and along the corridor. He looked across at Scorpius, Albus and Rose who were hiding behind the statue of Dilys Derwent and winked. He took a deep breath and went hurtling into the Hospital Wing, shrieking.

‘Mrs Longbottom! Mrs Longbottom!’ He was surprisingly convincing.

They ducked out of sight on hearing approaching footsteps on the old flagstones. Yann kept up the act, despite having completely lost his breath.

‘Some second-years – were duelling – up on – the seventh – floor. My girlfriend – Polly – tried to – stop them – but she – was – hit by – a stray – Knockback – Jinx – we think – it’s – her – leg!’ gasped Yann.

‘Lead the way, Mr Fredericks,’ urged Mrs Longbottom, as she ran after him.

The trio listened carefully until Yann and Mrs Longbottom’s footsteps could no longer be heard before stepping out from behind the statue.

‘Thank Dumbledore,’ breathed Rose, looking around the empty Hospital Wing. ‘I was worried there might be people in here. Half of the fourth years have come down with head colds according to McGonagall, and I thought we might run into that girl who somehow lost her ears in Charms last week. I suspect she’s been taken to St Mungo’s now though.’

At the far end of the room was a small door with Mrs Longbottom’s name on it. Scorpius shivered as he reached out towards the handle. The back of his neck prickled as he thought of Hyperion Pantaziz. What exactly were his crimes? Had he been convicted of breaking and entering? Had he been a thief? It wouldn’t really be stealing, Scorpius thought to himself. Only good could come from this. _Only good_.

He turned the handle. To his surprise, the door opened.

The room beyond wasn’t particularly large, much of the furniture and other articles seemed to have been crammed in. These were Mrs Longbottom’s living quarters, as well as the Hospital Wing supply cupboard, though it didn’t seem particularly lived in.

There was a large workbench in the far corner on which sat a pewter cauldron emitting plumes of pink steam into the air. Underneath were some battered old cardboard boxes. In the other corner was a tall brass-coloured filing cabinet with a varied collection of vases and fruit bowls on top. There were two cabinets, one containing spare blankets and sheets, and the other was full of colourful potion bottles with tiny labels stuck on.

To the immediate right was Mrs Longbottom’s bed which was partly shielded by a sweeping mustard-coloured curtain.

Scorpius and Rose rushed at once to the filing cabinet. Albus eyed up the potion bottles in the cabinet with a look of awe etched across his face. He slowly opened the doors and took out a slender potion bottle, deep purple in colour. He gave it a sniff and placed it back.

‘Yann was impressive, wasn’t he? He should consider applying to W.A.D.A.’

‘Not now, Albus,’ said Scorpius. ‘We haven’t got time. Mrs Longbottom could return at any moment.’

Rose rolled her eyes and wrenched open the top drawer. After skimming through the names, she quickly came to the conclusion that the filing cabinet contained only the notes of present-day Hogwarts students.

‘Maybe the older records are held off-site? Perhaps at the Ministry?’

‘I hope not,’ said Scorpius. ‘Let’s try those boxes first.’ He pointed to the boxes under the workbench. ‘Quickly.’

The boxes were filled to the brim with files and papers. On opening the first box, Scorpius inhaled a small cloud of dust. They smelt old and musty, like some of Scorpius’s favourite library books. It was usually a reassuring smell for him, but not in that moment. The papers seemed to relate to generations of Hogwarts students, filed in alphabetical order, though the boxes themselves were in an odd arrangement.

‘Well, well,’ said Albus suddenly.

‘Have you found them?’ Scorpius and Rose said together at once. Albus smiled and turned the file over. It had been labelled “_POTTER, Harry James_” by someone with neat handwriting. Rose snatched it out of his hands.

‘No, Albus! That’s not what we’re here for!’

‘G!’ Scorpius cried. ‘I’ve found G.’

Albus and Rose cast their boxes aside and rushed to Scorpius’s side. Their hands worked together as one as they tore through the files.

‘Gammidge… Gardner… Gibbard… Gilpin… Goldstein… Gore… Granger…’

‘What was that?’ Albus said suddenly. ‘Did you hear something?’

They froze.

Sure enough, the sound of urgent footsteps approached. Scorpius waved his wand making the papers fly back into their respective boxes in a matter of seconds.

‘Wait, Scorpius,’ said Rose, just as the door opened.

Mrs Longbottom stood still in the doorway, her mouth agape. Her eyes flew around the room.

‘What in Merlin’s name!’ she cried. ‘What is the meaning of this?’

Around her neck, Mrs Longbottom wore a pendant watch. Its face flashed violently and it buzzed frantically, like a fly trapped behind a pane of glass.

‘I placed a Caterwauling Charm on this room,’ she said tapping the watch with her wand. ‘It’s connected to this thing. It goes off as soon as someone so much as puts a toe in this office. You’ll be pleased to hear that Miss Chapman’s leg is in fine working order – she seems to have a flair for the dramatic that girl. I presume she and Mr Fredericks were in on your little plan? Yes? – Well? I’m waiting for an explanation!’

Scorpius had never seen Mrs Longbottom like this, she was usually a smiley, mild-tempered woman.

Rose shuffled awkwardly on her feet. Scorpius stepped forward, praying his brain would work faster than his mouth. He’d have to think of something quickly; he couldn’t risk getting Albus, Rose and the others into trouble.

‘They were helping me,’ Albus said calmly. He stepped forward, awkwardly pulling at his sleeves as though to cover his hands. Scorpius and Rose exchanged frowns.

‘I’ve been reading up on the Potion of Dreamless Sleep. I thought I might be able to make it, but it’s far too advanced for me. Then I remembered. After that Hallowe’en, after – _Delphi_ – Madam Pomfrey gave me a bottle of it. It helped.’

Mrs Longbottom let out a tiny sigh.

‘Still having those nightmares, then, Albus?’

He nodded and swallowed.

‘They’ve got worse. I’m having them most nights.’

The way he spoke, Scorpius knew he wasn’t lying. Had he really not noticed?

Mrs Longbottom walked towards Albus and wrapped her arms around him. Scorpius bowed his head in shame. Behind him, Rose made a muffled sound. Scorpius turned, just in time to see her straightening her robes. She looked concerned, as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

‘I had no idea,’ said Mrs Longbottom. ‘You should’ve come to see me, Albus. Are your parents aware of this?’

Albus twisted his face and shrugged.

‘I’m sorry for breaking in here, Hannah – sorry, Mrs Longbottom – I just thought you might’ve had a batch made up,’ he said, glancing towards the cabinet. The door was open, just as he had left it. Albus really could be very clever sometimes.

‘Please, I don’t want Rose and Scorpius to get in trouble because of me, or Polly and Yann,’ said Albus. ‘They were only trying to help.’

Mrs Longbottom waved her hands. ‘No, of course not. You’ve got some good friends there,’ she said, smiling to them each in turn. Scorpius felt the shame rise in his chest, all thick and heavy and tight. He certainly didn’t feel like a good friend.

‘Now, how about we have a little chat?’ Mrs Longbottom said to Albus. ‘You two can go now. Don’t worry, this will be our little secret.’

Scorpius and Rose left the Hospital Wing quickly. Neither said a word until they had reached the staircase.

‘Did you know?’ Rose asked in a small voice.

Scorpius shook his head. He leant over the staircase, watching as a first-year Gryffindor tried to remove his foot from the vanishing step on the staircase below.

Rose laid her hand on his back. It was a warm reassurance, but it wasn’t enough to make him stop feeling so awful.

‘I’m just sorry he had to do that to save my skin. If it weren’t for Albus we would all probably be expelled now. Oh, why did I have to drag you both into this?’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Scorpius. You’d have done the same for him. You already have.’

Scorpius turned and looked up at her. Rose smiled sympathetically. Together they watched as the young Gryffindor finally managed to free his foot. He ran triumphantly off up the stairs.

‘I saw the look on your face in there,’ said Scorpius.

‘Of course, you did. Can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?’

Rose winked and laughed softly. Scorpius covered his blushes with a grin.

‘No – no, I mean… you looked concerned – _really_ concerned. I’m just glad things are different with you two now.’

‘He’s my cousin,’ shrugged Rose. ‘And I wasn’t there for him when he needed me before, so I’m making up for it now – and, I want to be there for you too, _Scorpion King_,’ she teased. ‘If you’ll let me?’

Scorpius cracked and pulled at his finger mindlessly. He flexed out his hand and took a deep breath.

‘I – I don’t know what to say… I mean – yes! – of course, yes – always yes. And I you, Rose. I want to be there for you too.’

It was Rose’s turn to blush. She turned away from him, laughed, then looked back.

‘Meet me in the Prefects’ common room tonight after curfew. Just you,’ she said, and ran off up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower, overtaking the clumsy first-year.

Scorpius watched her go, his heart racing, his head fizzing with excitement. Had Rose Granger-Weasley just asked him on a date?

***


	5. Perseverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius talks with Albus about his recent nightmares and has a late-night meeting with Rose Granger-Weasley.

Scorpius decided to go to the Slytherin common room to wait for Albus. Other than a group of pallid-faced seventh-years revising for their exams, the common room was empty. They nodded as Scorpius sat down in an armchair by the fire, as they had done for the past couple of years.

He got out _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_ from his bag and set it down on his lap, flicking through the pages almost mindlessly.

If only Mrs Longbottom had waited just a few more seconds before bursting in, he thought to himself. Scorpius was at a loss, he felt restless and somewhat despondent. There was no way he could go back office to search for his Mum’s file again, now he knew about the security charm had placed on it. It had been such a narrow escape anyway; he couldn’t risk going back. If not for Albus, all three may have been sat in Professor McGonagall’s office right now.

There was no way he could find out more about his Mum’s curse now. Scorpius was torn between feeling like he was letting her down and feeling selfish for his reasons for doing it.

‘There you are,’ said a familiar voice behind him. He hadn’t heard Albus come in.

Scorpius jumped to his feet and rushed to him, embracing him tightly.

‘I’m so sorry, Albus,’ said Scorpius. ‘I’m s-sorry you had to do that.’

‘Get – off – me,’ laughed Albus. ‘You’re strangling me.’

Scorpius waited a moment before releasing him. Albus slung his bag down on the floor and sat down in the seat Scorpius had just vacated.

‘I’m sorry,’ Scorpius said again, but Albus shook his head.

‘It’s out there now, Scorpius. I feel… lighter, somehow. Does that sound stupid?’

‘No, it doesn’t.’

‘It’s not every night, a few times a week at most,’ Albus began. ‘I’m with you, and we’re laughing and happy… but then the air, it sort of changes, you know? I turn around and you’re screaming in pain… you’re screaming, and I shout your name, but no sound comes out. And your body is all bent and twisted… and it seems to go on forever. And _she’s_ there, standing above you, laughing.’

Scorpius shivered. His bones blazed and ached in remembrance.

‘Then time sort of slows down… I can see Craig, and I know what’s going to happen before it does. I want to get to him, I want to push him out of her way, but it’s like I’m paralysed. I can’t move at all… and she’s goading me, taunting me…’

Albus swallowed.

‘Her eyes turn red and she’s grinning… and then she… she kills him. It’s like I’m going to be sick, but I can’t look away from him – he’s just lying there. I want him to get back up, but he doesn’t... And Delphi is laughing. And I’m angry, but she only laughs harder. I want to… I want to _kill_ her.’

Albus bowed his head, as if ashamed. He was shaking. Scorpius reached out towards him.

‘Albus…’ he said softly.

‘And then she raises her wand and points it right in my face. I can hear my Dad calling my name, but I can’t see him. “_I think I’ll kill the boy first_,”’ Albus said, in a high, cold voice – Delphi’s voice. ‘Everything turns green… and I wake up with a start. I’m too frightened to go back to sleep. And angry. It makes me want to – to find her and…’

His voice trailed off. Albus was visibly shaking.

‘Albus, I – ’

‘Don’t, Scorpius. I know what you’re like. Don’t feel bad, please don’t do that. You’ve had your own stuff going on – all this stuff with your Mum and everything – and that’s okay, I understand, I do.’

‘I just wish I could’ve been there for you…’

‘– And you have been, in other ways. It’s been good to take my mind off it,’ he said.

Scorpius nodded.

‘Wake me next time – the next time you have a nightmare and can’t sleep. Promise me.’

Albus looked up at him. He rolled his eyes playfully and smiled. ‘Promise,’ he said.

Albus took out his potions book and a few rolls of parchment from his bag. Albus had misplaced his quill, as he often did, so Scorpius had to lend him one of his. Still not in the mood for homework, Scorpius went and got his family’s photograph album from the dormitory. He now knew his ancestors’ faces in intimate detail.

‘Shame we didn’t manage to get your Mum’s file,’ said Albus. He raised his eyebrows, indicating the album in front of Scorpius. ‘But there’ll be other chances – other ways of finding out about the curse. I’m sure of it. We’ll help you.’

‘Have I shown you this one?’ asked Scorpius. He gently prised a photo up from the dark pages and passed it over to Albus. It showed a sickly-looking woman with a thin, gaunt face and large protruding eyes. Her smile was a warm and welcoming one, though her eyes were glassy and absent.

‘She looks like my Mum – not identical, of course – but the family resemblance is there. And that’s how she looked – my Mum, I mean, towards the end.’

‘Who is she?’

‘I believe her name is Rhea – at least I think that’s what it says in Greek on the back. I think she might’ve been Hyperion’s mother.’

‘And you think she suffered from the curse too?’

Scorpius shrugged and furrowed his brow. This was all guesswork now.

‘Maybe,’ he said after a while. ‘I don’t know.’

Albus handed the photograph back to him. He scribbled something down on the parchment in front of him. His quill scratched urgently, like he was riding a wave of sudden inspiration. Potions was Albus’s favourite subject, though it hadn’t always been that way.

‘You know…’ he said suddenly. ‘You could ask Rose to help you translate the Greek names,’ Albus said with a grin.

Albus was right; Rose was top of the class in Ancient Runes.

‘Yeah, right,’ laughed Scorpius. ‘I’ll make sure to ask her tonight…’ he said, as suavely as he could. He ran his fingers through his hair, as he imagined cool boys his age might do.

The penny didn’t drop immediately for Albus. But when it did, he looked up and glared at Scorpius, almost accusingly. His jaw dropped but he made no sound.

‘Yeah, she wants us to meet in the Prefects’ common room tonight. After curfew,’ Scorpius said, his voice broke suddenly.

‘WHAT?’ shouted Albus, so loudly the seventh-years behind him jumped and glowered in his direction. He offered them a quick apology, then turned back to Scorpius. He was on his feet by then, his face looking both shocked and concerned.

‘You’re only just telling me this _now_!’

‘Well I couldn’t just come out with that straightaway, could I? “Hello, Albus. Yes, sorry about your crippling nightmares triggered by a past traumatic event, but your cousin just asked me out and I’m rather excited about it!”’

Surprisingly, it was Albus who needed to catch his breath.

‘I can’t believe this… I can’t believe this,’ he repeated under his breath as he paced the floor. ‘How are you so relaxed?’

‘Believe me, I’m not. My mind is in full-blown panic mode right now; it’s racing. My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since she asked me. I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this. It’s like that time she called me Bread Head in Potions but multiplied by about… a thousand!’

‘Well don’t wear yourself out,’ said Albus. ‘We still have dinner and double Transfiguration to get through yet.’

***

The Prefects’ common room was behind a rather bland painting of a water jug on the fifth floor, flanked by bookcases on either side.

‘_Perseverance_,’ whispered Scorpius. At once, the two bookcases rolled inwards, towards the portrait. They crossed each other, made a shuck noise, then moved aside to reveal a plain wooden door. There was a solid brass knocker right in the centre in the shape of the Hogwarts crest. The Slytherin snake hissed, coiling and looping around itself as Scorpius reached forward and knocked five times. The door swung open and Scorpius entered.

It was a large space. Tapestries adorned the walls depicting key moments of Hogwarts history. There were house banners in each corner, as well as a large landscape showing the castle and Hogsmeade hanging above the fireplace. You could always rely on the fire to be lit on a cold day.

Rose was nowhere to be seen.

‘Relax… relax,’ Scorpius said out loud. ‘Deep breaths. Remember to breathe, Scorpius.’

He sat down in an armchair by the fire. He stood up again suddenly and straightened his robes, wanting to make sure they looked just right.

Scorpius sat down again and took a deep breath. He squinted as he looked into the fire, the flames dancing and flickering to the tune of the crackling logs.

‘Reading the flames, _Scorpion King_?’ called a voice behind him. Rose giggled from out of the darkness.

‘What?’

‘It’s nothing – just something Grandma Weasley says.’

‘No fire-omens that I can make out,’ laughed Scorpius. ‘But then I’m not much of a pyromancer. Were you there the entire time?’ he asked bashfully. Rose nodded and sat down beside him.

‘You look fine by the way,’ she said with a smirk. She stretched her hands out towards the fire. ‘What were you thinking about? It’s like I can almost hear your brain working, all your thoughts whirring and jangling about. I sit sometimes, just watching you, hoping you’ll share them with me.’

Scorpius turned to her, surprised. His eyes found hers so easily, so naturally. She had the flames in her eyes, flickering and bright. Warm and inviting. He’d share everything with her.

‘I’m just thinking about today,’ said Scorpius. ‘Your plan, Mrs Longbottom… Albus. Everything. It didn’t go quite as we hoped it would.’

Rose twisted her face and frowned.

‘How is he?’

‘He’s good, I think. Getting there, I hope. He feels better now. But I’m no further forward…’

Rose beamed, her smile brighter than the flames themselves.

‘Well, funny you should say tha – ’

‘– Oh! I just remembered. I forgot to bring it!’

‘– Scorpius!’

‘– There’s a photo of this woman in the album but her name’s in Greek and Albus and I were discussing it and we thought you might – ’

‘_Scorpius_!’

Rose shook her head playfully and rearranged her robes. From out of them, she pulled a bundle of papers, all neatly tied with string.

‘I swiped them when Hannah wasn’t looking,’ she said, sounding pretty pleased with herself. Rose handed the file to Scorpius and took a step back. ‘Well?’ she said.

On the top of the file, written in a familiar hand, were the words – "_GREENGRASS, Astoria_." Scorpius’s mind went blank, his eyes seemed to glaze over and blur as he stared at what Rose had just handed him.

‘_Well_?’ repeated Rose. She looked up at him hopefully.

‘Rose, I – ’

Scorpius felt his eyes welling up, his bottom lip trembled and shook, his legs were unsteady and weak.

‘Rose – ’

Rose cupped his face in her hands and wiped away the few tears streaming down his face. Her large, black eyes were warm and fiery. He could see his own eyes reflected in them, grey and icy and cold.

‘Why didn’t you give me this before?’ he said with a smile.

‘You know Hogwarts. Too many gawking faces,’ said Rose. ‘Too many people up to no good.’

‘I – I don’t know… what to say?’

Rose shrugged but said nothing.

Scorpius didn’t look away from her face as he put his arms around her, the file fell forgotten to the floor with a heavy thud. His eyes wandered to her lips. And suddenly he was kissing her, and she him, her fingers entwined around his neck. He breathed her in; all sweet and fresh and soft.

They separated, Rose’s mouth blossomed into a smile and then a giggle. Scorpius laughed too. He seemed finally able to breathe properly again.

‘Thank you, Rose – er, for the file, I mean, not the – not… _that_.’

Rose responded by pulling his face back down towards her. She kissed him again, and Scorpius complied entirely.

***


	6. The Future Is Mine to Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius returns to his dormitory, telling Albus about the night's events.

Scorpius and Rose left the Prefects’ common room together, clinging to the walls and staying out of sight. Even prefects could get in trouble if found out this late past curfew. They hugged before going their separate ways.

‘Goodnight, _Scorpion King_,’ Rose whispered.

Scorpius planted a final kiss on her forehead and off they went.

He kept to the shadows all the way down to the dungeons, which he found to be especially dark at that time. Scorpius had never been out this late before.

He felt different on the way back; older, somehow, more mature. His head felt like it may pop off, as if a swarm of Billywigs were buzzing about up there, eager to free themselves. Like the time Albus had forced him to eat six Fizzing Whizzbees at once just to see what would happen.

The Slytherin common room was empty, of course, the only sound being the crackle of the dying embers in the grate of the fire. Scorpius trundled off down the stone stairs which lead to the dormitories, making sure to be quiet as to not wake the other Slytherins.

To his surprise, Albus was sat up in bed, waiting for him.

‘How’d it go?’ he said eagerly, casting his book aside. It fell to the floor with a soft thud.

‘You should be asleep!’

Albus shrugged and gestured to the tall purple potion bottle at his bedside table. The potion cast a shimmering pink light on the wall behind. The contents seemed to be fizzing, as though freshly brewed.

‘Hannah brought me this earlier. The Potion for Dreamless Sleep,’ said Albus in a quiet voice. ‘She said I had to drink it all; every last drop – but I didn’t want to miss you coming back.’

Scorpius sat down on the end of Albus’s bed and sighed. He said nothing, his mind was still back with Rose in the Prefects’ common room. He could feel his hands trembling.

‘Well?’ Albus said finally. ‘How’d it go?’

Scorpius shrugged and pulled a face, unsure of how to say it. He tried not to face Albus; a look would give him away and Albus would no doubt see it.

‘It was good. Great, in fact. We just sat and talked and we – er – we kissed,’ mumbled Scorpius. His tried his best to shield his face from Albus, covering his eyes with his hands.

Albus leapt up suddenly, shouting words that would’ve made Ginny Potter very cross indeed. Scorpius almost fell from the bed in shock.

‘You’re lying,’ yelled Albus. ‘I don’t believe you. You’re making this up. You didn’t! You couldn’t have! Did you really? You’re winding me up, you’ve got to be.’

‘Merlin be my witness,’ said Scorpius, raising a hand as if swearing an oath. ‘And it was great – amazing, actually. Bit weird because I was crying, but once I – ’

‘Crying? Were you really that bad?’

‘Shut up,’ said Scorpius. ‘I was crying because she gave me this.’

Scorpius pulled out his mother’s file from out his robes and presented them to Albus. Albus’s brow furrowed a second before his eyes lit up.

‘Woah,’ he whispered. ‘How did she…’

‘I don’t know! Rose just… gave it to me. Completely caught me by surprise. She’s amazing.’

‘She’s certainly something. Or shouldn’t I say that about your _girlfriend_?’ grimaced Albus.

‘She’s not my girlfriend! At least I don’t think so? I certainly didn’t ask her. Should I have? Ugh, I don’t know. My mind’s all over the place.’

Scorpius sighed and collapsed face down on his bed, bleating into his pillow. He didn’t move. He heard Albus cross the room and place his Mum’s notes down on his bedside table.

‘Are you asleep?’ he whispered.

‘No,’ groaned Scorpius. ‘The room was spinning; I couldn’t shut it out.’

He got up, discarding his robes onto the floor and changed for bed. Albus had climbed back into bed and was reading the label on the potion bottle in his hand. He was mumbling the list of ingredients under his breath, as if forcing his brain to remember.

Scorpius got into bed, pulling the blankets up snugly around his shoulders.

‘Scorpius,’ said Albus suddenly. ‘Are you all right?’

Scorpius murmured an unconvincing ‘yes,’ before turning to face Albus, who eyed him suspiciously.

‘I just thought… well I thought you’d be happier somehow?’ said Albus. ‘Dancing or singing or something. Smiling, at least! You and Rose kissed and you’re… sad? Haven’t you wanted this since the day we met?’

‘No – not since the very first day,’ chuckled Scorpius. ‘Later than that… I wanted this… Rose – _us_ – to happen for years, you know that. A part of me didn’t think it would ever happen – ’

‘ – That’s fair; she did kick you in the shin,’ mused Albus.

‘But then, quite recently in fact, I realised I didn’t want it to happen. N-not really. I shouldn’t have let this happen; it was selfish of me. I’m going to have to say something to her. I need to end this.’

Scorpius flexed his fingers, fighting the urge to pull and fidget with them. He was getting better at it. He thought he’d be passed this now.

Albus jumped out of bed for a second time that and marched over to Scorpius’s bed. He stood there a second or two, leering down at him. He looked remarkably like his Dad.

‘So, you fancy a girl for six years, pine for her, spending much of your time trying to pluck up the courage to go talk to her. After all that time she realises she fancies you too, which is great, wizzo, exactly what you wanted. The two of you finally kiss, but then you suddenly realise it was all a mistake and you regret it ever happening and want to end things? I don’t get it.’

‘Why don't you get it, Albus? Can’t you see how selfish I’m being?’

Scorpius sat up and took a few deep breaths. His heart was racing once more. He cracked his knuckles unconsciously and pulled at his two index fingers before laying his hands down either side of him on the bed.

‘The future is mine to make,’ said Scorpius in a loud, clear voice. ‘That’s what she said – Delphi. That night in the owlery. Polly Chapman said it too, before that – in the other world – the splinter world. It was the Augurey’s motto; and I think she had a point. I liked it. At first. So I went about making my own future… you know, with Quidditch and Dad, you and… _Rose_.’

Her name came out as a tragic whimper.

Albus was looking at him curiously; his green eyes were narrow, his face all screwed up and accusing. He said nothing, waiting for Scorpius to continue.

‘But then this whole thing with my Mum’s curse… I know how I felt, and I saw what it did to my Dad; he’s not the same man anymore. It broke all of us and we still haven’t recovered – not really – we’ve all just got better at hiding it, especially me. It’s all still there, under the surface. I feel like it would only take a solid hit for all that misery and grief to spill out through the crack.’

Still Albus said nothing. He hadn’t looked away, not once, but thankfully his face had softened. He wasn’t looking so intimidating anymore.

‘And what if I have the curse? Maybe I do, I don’t know. I don’t how it works, not yet. Imagine if I got sick and died just like my Mum? How could I put someone I love through that?’

Albus scowled and opened his mouth to say something, but Scorpius was too quick for him.

‘ – You can stop looking at me like that, Albus. I’m not stupid. I’m not saying I love Rose… I’m definitely not saying that. We’re much too young to know that… and anyway, I don’t mean just Rose – I mean anyone. How could I be with someone, have a family, have a future with that hanging above them? It’s selfish.’

‘Right…’ said Albus, drawing out the word. ‘So... you think your Mum was selfish then?’

‘No, of course not – ’

‘ – Then how are you?’

‘I’m selfish because I know better!’ he shouted loudly, startling even himself. The words seemed to spill from his mouth. ‘I know what it’s like… to lose someone like that!’

Albus recoiled and backed away. He shook his head and scoffed. 

‘You’re being stupid,’ he said. ‘You’re willing to throw away your happiness over something that may never happen? You want to ruin what you’ve got now because you’re scared about the future?’

‘I can’t ever be happy. Not in that way. Not while this – _thing_ – still courses through my veins. You just don't understand, Albus! You don't understand what it's like to be me!’

Albus got back into bed, facing away from Scorpius. He uncorked the purple potion bottle and drained it in three loud gulps.

‘Well, sounds stupid to me. You’ll feel different in the morning once you’ve slept on it,’ said Albus, as he drifted off to sleep. Within seconds he was snoring loudly. Scorpius remained awake for hours, though his eyes were heavy with guilt and worry. His mind flickered between the touch of Rose’s lips on his, and the heavy words of his best friend. Scorpius was certain he wouldn’t feel any different when he eventually woke up.

***


	7. The Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius makes up with Albus and finally reads his Mum's medical notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small trigger warning — there are descriptions of childhood illness in this chapter.

Scorpius opened his eyes just as Albus walked in.

‘What time is it?’

Albus said nothing. He pulled off his winter cloak and stored it away in the trunk at the foot of his bed. The air was thick and terse, and Scorpius didn’t like it. It was rare for him and Albus to fall out.

‘I brought those up for you before,’ said Albus suddenly, gesturing to a plate of cold toast on the table beside Scorpius’s bed. ‘Then I went down to see Hagrid. I haven’t been in a while. Anyway, I’m off to the library. I have work I should be getting on with,’ he said, his voice sounding off and cold. He didn’t speak again. He left the dormitory without so much as a glance in Scorpius’s direction.

Scorpius groaned and jumped out of bed. He dressed quickly and hurried after Albus.

The corridors were deserted, mostly, as they often were on a Saturday. A group of first-years were gathered in the courtyard as Scorpius passed through, all chatting loudly. One Gryffindor girl was holding a small jar with bluebell flames dancing about inside it. Perhaps Rose had showed her how, Scorpius wondered with a smile.

‘That’s him. There – look! That’s Scorpius Malfoy.’

They all fell silent. It was a young Gryffindor boy who had spoken, small for his age and wearing the largest robes Scorpius had ever seen. He stared at Scorpius timidly.

‘Hello!’ said Scorpius, trying his best to sound jolly and completely unintimidating. The group of first-years recoiled, a few gasped loudly, and the Gryffindor boy melted away as if Scorpius’s gaze had turned him to pure liquid. He slithered away with the rest of his friends, who were all giggling. They closely watched Scorpius with strange looks of respect. Scorpius chuckled and shook his head, watching the group as they walked off.

‘Hey, Scorpius,’ said a voice from behind him.

‘Oh, hi, Karl.’

Karl Jenkins ambled suavely towards him; his shiny yellow Prefect badge out on display. Scorpius struggled to work out the expression of his face, he was smiling but his eyes were full of resentment.

‘So…’ said Karl, drawing out the word for as long as possible. ‘You and Rose?’

‘Err – yeah? Sort of. I mean – _yes_. How do you know?’ asked Scorpius.

‘Polly just told me,’ said Karl almost immediately. He caught himself and shot Scorpius an unconvincing smile.

Scorpius knew that Karl liked Rose too, in fact it was common knowledge in their year. He sometimes offered to carry her bag between classes (‘I’m quite capable of carrying my own bag, thank you! I’ll let you know if that ever changes!), but he hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask her out as far as Scorpius was aware. Luckily for him, Rose had never shown the slightest bit of interest in Karl.

‘Look Karl, I know – ’

‘No – no, it’s all good. I just wanted to say… I’m happy for you. Really. As long as she’s happy, eh? That’s what matters.’

‘Thanks, I think?.’

He patted Scorpius on the shoulder a little too harshly as he walked by, going off in the direction that the group of first-years had went. Scorpius hurried off to the library.

He found Albus slumped in a corner by the alchemy section, four large books were flopped open in front of him. He was writing furiously, already on his third sheet of parchment.

Albus pulled a face on seeing him approach. He shrunk against the wall, pulling his parchment and books with him.

‘I’m sorry for shouting, Albus,’ said Scorpius. ‘And for what I said. I didn’t mean it.’

Albus merely carried on writing. He closed one of the books and shoved it to the side, nearly sending his ink bottle flying.

‘And thank you for the toast,’ Scorpius added, in a small voice.

Albus finally looked up and nodded, gesturing to the chair beside him, which Scorpius quickly sat down on.

‘I do understand, Scorpius. I know where you’re coming from; I just think you’re wrong. And I’m sorry too. I don’t think you were being stupid. You were just scared,’ said Albus.

Scorpius pulled at the neckline of his jumper, suddenly desperate to tear it away from his throat. He felt clammy and warm; uncomfortable. He took a single deep breath and relaxed his shoulders.

‘You’re right,’ he said quietly. ‘Of course, you are. I – I was rash and impulsive, and I didn’t mean it, not really.’

‘And you’re right,’ he swallowed. ‘I am scared. But I can’t give into fear, that’s the easy thing to do. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially not you, or Rose.’

‘Well that’s good,’ said Albus. ‘I think you were forgetting how big my family is! I don’t think they wouldn’t take too kindly to you breaking their little Rosie’s heart, whatever the reason. Uncle Ron would flay you alive!’

Scorpius laughed heartily. He was certain Ron Weasley would flay anyone who hurt his only daughter.

‘All this has only furthered my resolve, Albus, you know that, right? I can't live in fear of what might happen. I have to break the curse. I have to at least try.’

‘I know you will,’ nodded Albus. ‘And it’s _only furthered my resolve_ too,’ he said through a smile. ‘And I’ll help you. We’ll help you. You won’t be doing this alone.’

He smiled widely in response, words failing him all of a sudden. Albus seemed to understand and turned back to his homework, for which Scorpius was very grateful, grateful for having a best friend like Albus Potter.

*

That night, by candlelight in a nook in the corner of the common room, Scorpius began trawling through his Mum’s medical notes. They were thorough, and exactly the sort of thing he was looking for. Albus offered to help, but, for the first reading, Scorpius wanted to do it alone.

The first few pages were written on lime-green parchment, each headed with a scarlet stamp mark reading St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries [COPY].

The Healer who cared for Scorpius’s mother as a child was a wizard named Professor Cyrus Skelly, whose handwriting was utterly abysmal. It was small, the letters cramped together so tightly many words resembled only a smudge and barely a word at all.

After a few hours, Scorpius finally managed to transcribe most of Professor Skelly’s notes; though many of the same phrases cropped up. Some of what he read felt awfully familiar.

** _Astoria Greengrass_ **  
** _ DOB: 21st December 1981_ **

_18 Jul 1986 — Miss Greengrass, 4-years-old, brought into St M’s by her parents after falling and cutting her knee. Wound refusing to clot. Parents also report frequent nosebleeds and easy bruising. Miss Greengrass occasionally suffers night terrors with convulsions._

_On examination Miss Greengrass appears to be bright, alert and talkative. Very pallor. Stitches on leg wound proved effective. Prescribed daily Blood-Replenishing Potion for a few weeks and asked parents to watch her closely. — Professor C. Skelly._

_5 Jan 1987 — Miss Greengrass, 5-years-old … Wound refusing to clot. Some inflammation… frequent nosebleeds… very pallor, dark circles under eyes… Night terrors…_

_… Prescribed BRP twice daily for two weeks. — Prof. S._

_7 Oct 1988 — A. Greengrass … Laceration to head after tripping at home… Deep wound refusing to clot…_

_Pale complexion. Much bruising around wound… Stitches proved effective… BRP prescribed for one week… — Prof. S._

_27 Feb 1990 — Astoria Greengrass, 9-years-old, brought in by parents. Reports of headaches and dizziness. Frequent nosebleeds. Fainted yesterday. Losing weight and constant fatigue._

_On examination, Astoria appears lethargic, weak and fragile. Sallow skin and dilated pupils. Irregular heartbeat and complains of breathlessness. Admitted to St M’s for further treatment._

_Suffered fleeting night terrors with convulsions._

_Disch. on 21 Mar. Prescribed BRP, PUP and rest. — Prof. Cyrus Skelly._

By the last entry, Professor Skelly had written the word **_MALISON_**, in bright red ink, and even went to the trouble of circling and underlining it three times. It was the only entry to have been annotated.

What was _Malison_? It wasn’t a term Scorpius had ever come across before. Was it the name of another Healer who worked at St Mungo’s? Or perhaps it was a type of medicine they’d given to his Mum while she was in hospital? Scorpius had no idea.

The following pages in his mother’s file were from the time that she attended Hogwarts. His Mum’s visits to the Hospital Wing were less frequent, thankfully, though Madam Pomfrey seemed to have kept a close eye on her. Included in the file were notes from Scorpius’s grandmother, reminding Madam Pomfrey to have batches of Blood-Replenishing Potion made up, just in case.

The winter months were the worst for Astoria, according to her file. She frequently caught colds, and her joints ached from time to time, but nothing too serious or out of the ordinary.

There were no notes made for the 1997 – 1998 school year, which Scorpius had expected.

He shuddered, huddling closer to the candle as the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He knew a family like the Greengrasses would have advised their daughter not to garner or raise any suspicion for a mysterious illness no one could explain. Even for a family of their standing, Astoria’s illness would be considered a weakness by others of their ilk, one that should be ripped out, root and stem.

The last entry in the file was dated 19th May 1999. It was short and encouraging. It read:

_Much improvement from earlier years. Astoria has responded well to treatment. She is much stronger, looks healthy and seems happy._

_Seems happy_. Scorpius read those two simple words over and over.

If only that were to last.

It proved to be grisly reading, but it was nothing that Scorpius hadn’t been expecting. Still, his heart ached with every word, it pained in sympathy for the cards his mother had been dealt in her life from such a young age.

‘Scorpius? Are you still up?’ said Albus as he clambered up the steps from the dormitory below. Scorpius hadn’t noticed the time. It was well into the small hours by now.

Albus’s hair was sticking up in all directions, his eyes were thick with sleep. He yawned as he crossed the common room, blinking in the candlelight.

‘Are you all right?’

Scorpius nodded and handed him his notes.

‘I was just transcribing… that.’

Scorpius watched as Albus’s eyes skimmed down the page, widening every few words. He looked so very uncomfortable.

‘Scorpius… I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was that bad.’

‘Yeah. And it got worse after that. Much worse. Believe me, Albus, that there is pretty mild.’

Albus read the notes again. He winced less on the second read.

‘It’s just so horrible.’

‘I know,’ said Scorpius, ‘but now we know how it all started. We have something to go on now. We can work towards beating it.’

Albus swallowed and nodded fervently.

‘We’ll do it,’ he said. ‘For your Mum.’

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The onset of Astoria's illness is influenced by 'Muggle' blood disorders such as haemophilia and anemia, which gradually worsens as she gets older. 
> 
> Wizarding illnesses usually differ wildly from Muggle ones, hence why her case is treated as unusual. In this instance, Muggle stitches work on her cuts where magic proves ineffective. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Christmas with the Weasleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius has been invited to spend Christmas Day with Albus, Rose and the rest of the Weasley family.

‘Ready to go?’

Scorpius nodded. He’d been ready for the best part of an hour. His dad was wearing rather un-festive robes, charcoal-grey in colour. His face was blank, woeful almost.

‘I don’t have to go, Dad. I can stay here. With you,’ said Scorpius.

His dad crossed the room, shaking his head.

‘Absolutely not. You should go – have some fun!’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘Your mum loved Christmas too.’

In the last week before the Christmas holidays, Albus and Rose and came to him and asked if he and his dad would like to spend Christmas Day at The Burrow with them. It wouldn’t be too hectic, they reassured him, as many of their uncles, aunts and cousins would be spending the day with other members of the family.

Scorpius had first raised the idea with his dad in a letter, then again when he arrived home at Malfoy Manor. Surprisingly, his dad agreed that it would be nice for Scorpius to spend the day with friends but remained adamant that he wouldn’t be going.

‘You’re going. And that’s the end of it,’ said his dad. He tousled his son’s hair with a gentle hand. Scorpius smiled and took hold of his dad’s left arm.

‘Promise you’ll stay. Just for a little bit?’

His dad turned and faced him. They were almost the same height now, there was only an inch or two in it.

‘Mrs Weasley said you were more than wel– ’

Scorpius suddenly felt his body being ripped from the floor where he stood. His body twisted and constricted, like he was being stretched out and squeezed through a long pipe. He gripped his dad’s arm even tighter. There was a loud crack, and Scorpius felt hard ground beneath his feet once more.

‘I’ll never get used to that,’ he said as he let go of his dad’s arm. He inhaled deeply, his stomach threatening to regurgitate that morning’s breakfast.

‘You’ll get used to it eventually,’ chortled his dad. ‘Just as soon as you get your license.’

Scorpius blinked a few times and stared up at the welcoming rickety outline of The Burrow. His dad had Apparated them to the gate, which had been wrapped in tinsel and sparkling lights.

The few trees around them had also been decorated accordingly; paper decorations were draped around the trees, and fairies in glass lanterns were hanging from their low branches.

Scorpius led the way up to the front door, on which hung a wreath and more tinsel which spelt out a ‘W’. Beside the front step sat a broken plant pot and a rusty metal watering can. His dad scoffed and knocked on the door. They waited awhile, in silence, occasionally looking at each other. Scorpius shrugged and knocked again.

The door opened suddenly. The girl was wearing a bright-green knitted jumper, with what appeared to be a yellow Puffskein on the front. She had large bright eyes, the exact colour of honey. Lily Potter’s face broke out into a smile at once.

‘Hello, Scorpius!’ she exclaimed. ‘Mr Malfoy,’ she added, in a much quieter voice. Draco nodded to her and smiled.

Rose appeared suddenly at Lily’s shoulder, wearing her best smile and red knitted jumper with a large golden lion emblazoned on the front. His heart still leapt every time he saw her.

She was closely followed by her mother, Hermione, who beamed at them both.

‘Merry Christmas,’ said Hermione. ‘Come in, come in.’

She took them straight through into the kitchen, a room packed completely with chaos. There were pots and pans all over the benches into which flew never-ending streams of chopped vegetables, orchestrated entirely by Mrs Weasley. Harry Potter was to her right, taking care of the turkey which, going off its size, could easily have been a pygmy Hippogriff in disguise.

The room was completely covered in more decorations, an explosion of reds and greens, golds and silvers. In the corner was a large wonky Christmas tree, under which sat a pile of badly wrapped presents.

‘Happy Christmas!’ said Draco, addressing the whole room, though there was nothing remotely happy about his dour, blank face.

‘Happy Christmas!’ said everyone, turning around to face them.

Mr Weasley was sat at the long table fiddling with a strange rectangular object. He said hello to Scorpius, but looked suspiciously up at Draco, who was staring curiously around the room.

Beside Mr Weasley was Ginny, who was scribbling in a tatty notebook, and a man Scorpius had only ever seen before in photographs; Charlie Weasley. He immediately got to his feet and walked around the table. He was short for a Weasley, nowhere near as tall as Ron or George, though he was stockier and more broad-shouldered than either of them.

‘You must be Scorpius,’ he said, taking Scorpius’s hand into his. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’

Charlie had weathered hands and a very firm grip. He looked older than his age; his face appeared worn and tired, though it was very freckly. He was sporting a large shiny scar on the left side of his face, almost like a birthmark. Scorpius knew Charlie worked with dragons; this must have been the result of one of his very many near-misses that Albus relished telling him about. Every time Albus saw his uncle, he came back with a gory story or two about Charlie’s brave escapes from certain fiery death. Of all of the Weasleys Scorpius had met, Albus looked the most like Charlie.

‘Nice to meet you too, Charlie,’ Scorpius chimed back.

A loud groan signalled that Ron had entered the room behind them. He was closely followed by Hugo, who, like Scorpius, almost matched his father’s height. They both had the same long necks and noses, though Hugo’s hair was entirely his mother’s.

‘Merry Christmas, Scorpius,’ said Ron. He locked eyes with his wife a moment before adding ‘and Draco.’ Ron rolled his eyes as he sat down at the table and opened up a copy of that morning’s _Daily Prophet_. Hermione squeezed Scorpius’s shoulder and went off to help Harry with the turkey.

‘Lily, can you go and get Albus, please?’ said Rose. ‘Tell him Scorpius is here. I think he’s with James in the attic.’

Lily pulled a sour face but ran off up the staircase anyway.

‘I had better get going then,’ said Scorpius’s dad loudly, as though he wanted the whole room to hear.

‘Leaving already, Draco?’ said Mrs Weasley, turning on her heel. ‘You can’t go; we haven’t had dinner yet.’

‘I – I couldn’t possibly impose myself upon you all, not at Christmas.’

‘Nonsense. You were invited too,’ she said through a warm smile.

Ron groaned again, which made Hugo laugh out loud.

‘Thank you, but… with respect, I… ’

‘Sit down, Draco!’ said Harry, forcing Scorpius’s dad into a seat at the end of the table. Scorpius noticed his dad didn’t resist him all that much.

‘Now has anyone seen the parsnips?’ said Mrs Weasley.

‘Come on,’ said Rose, turning to face him. ‘I’ve got something to show you.’ Before Scorpius even had time to think, Rose had grabbed him by his wrist and was dragging him out of the kitchen and into the garden.

At the end of the garden path was a large wooden shed with a painted green door and two cracked windows on either side. Outside was an arrangement of sculptures, all of tiny men painted in bright colours with protruding eyes and large white beards. They had pointed hats on their heads, but they didn’t appear to be wizards. One was holding a fishing rod.

Rose wrenched open the door and ushered him in.

The shed was much bigger on the inside than Scorpius had been expecting. In the middle of a room was a shabby yellow armchair and a table, surrounded by precariously high piles of cardboard boxes. There were shelves upon shelves full of the most random items, including taps, light switches and even rings of keys. Many of the objects around the room looked electrical, strange boxes and shiny screens with some wires looped up and others left hanging down. There were bits of old cars as well as a motorbike engine, and what appeared to be a collection of bathplugs and telephone wires.

‘This is Granddad’s shed,’ said Rose. ‘No one but him ever comes in here. Grandma outright refuses.’

‘Yeah, I wonder why,’ chuckled Scorpius.

‘I’m glad your dad said you could come. And that he decided to say.’

‘Me too; I didn’t like the idea of leaving him. Not at Christmas. Hopefully he’ll relax a bit now,’ said Scorpius.

‘Well, I’m not sure my dad will help with that.’

Rose wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly.

‘Merry Christmas,’ she said. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ he said, breathing her in.

Rose let go of him and stepped back suddenly.

‘Promise me,’ she said, looking up into his face. ‘Promise me you’ll try to enjoy yourself, Scorpius. You’ve been so focused on the curse lately, and I know how important it is to you. But don’t forget to live, okay? That’s what’s important to me.’

Scorpius locked eyes with Rose. She had kind eyes. That was the sort of thing his mum would’ve said about her. He imagined his mum meeting Rose, imagined them gossiping and giggling together in the corner of a room. They would’ve gotten on so well, that Scorpius was sure of. It’s strange the way imagination works, Scorpius thought to himself. That could never happen, it was a lie, like his brain was sabotaging and purposely wounding his heart. It only spurred him on more.

She searched his eyes in return, as though trying to deepest scars of his soul. He wondered if she had the imagined the same thing.

‘I promise,’ he said, in little more than a whisper. Rose hugged him even tighter. They only separated on hearing the door creak open.

Albus walked in, closely followed by Lily, who looked utterly repulsed on discovering Scorpius and Rose embracing.

‘Scorpius! Merry Christmas,’ said Albus, as he practically launched himself on his best friend. ‘I’m glad you’re here. James says hi too, but he’s still in the attic.’

‘What’s he doing in the attic?’

‘He’s feeding some parsnips to the ghoul who lives up there, he’s calling it a little Christmas treat. Apparently, the ghoul’s enjoying them, but he’s always banging on the pipes; I don’t know how James can tell the difference. James says he’s going to take some turkey up for him after dinner.’

‘I told him he was better off giving him carrots,’ shrugged Lily, ‘but would he listen?’

Albus sat himself down on his Granddad’s armchair in the centre of the room and stretched out his legs onto the table in front.

‘Get out, Lily,’ he said through a yawn. ‘No whiny little girls allowed.’

‘Perhaps you should leave then, Albus,’ Lily snapped right back. She looked between Scorpius and Rose for a glimmer of support but received none. She scoffed and marched out of the shed, leaving the door wide open.

Rose took out her wand and pointed it at the door. It immediately swung shut.

‘Can’t wait until I’m able to do that,’ bleated Albus. ‘I’d never have to move again.’

‘You’ll be seventeen soon enough, Al,’ sighed Rose.

‘Well it can’t come soon enough for me.’

Scorpius laughed as he picked up an old Muggle camera from a shelf. He pointed it at Rose as he looked through the viewfinder and clicked the button. Nothing happened, as he’d expected, but still Rose pulled a funny face.

‘Have you talked to your dad yet, Scorpius? About your mum?’

‘N – no, and I don’t intend to,’ said Scorpius, slightly taken aback. He placed the camera back where he had found it. ‘I can’t ask him anything, because then I’d have to confess that we’d stolen the notes from the Hospital Wing.’

‘Al, it’s Christmas. Not now,’ snapped Rose.

‘Do you think your dad suspects anything?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Scorpius. ‘I’ve been working hard to make sure he doesn’t suspect a thing.’

The truth was Scorpius has been desperate to broach the subject with his dad, but could never seem to find the right moment, or to muster the courage to do it. They were closer now than they had ever been, and Scorpius didn’t want to risk changing that.

Scorpius had so many questions to ask, but he wasn’t sure anyone would be able to answer them.

Albus jumped up suddenly and took out a strange object from one of the boxes. It looked somewhat like a gun, at least he thought that’s what the Muggles called them. But it was a little chunky and had a long wire at the back.

‘What do you suppose this thing is?’ said Albus.

‘Oh, there you are!’ called a loud clear voice. Hermione had popped her through the door and was surveying Mr Weasley’s shed with a disparaging look.

‘Dinner’s ready, you three,’ she said. ‘Time to put the hairdryer down, Albus.’

‘So_ that’s_ what this thing is!’

***


	9. Christmas Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius hasn't experienced anything like Christmas at the Burrow, but it might just be what he and his Dad need.

Christmas dinner at the Burrow, it turned out, was a loud affair, rivalled only by meals in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was much louder than any Christmas Scorpius was used to. He was sat between his Dad and Rose. Mrs Weasley spent much of her time making sure Scorpius and his Dad were eating plenty – much to Ron’s visible annoyance.

With dinner out of way, Mrs Weasley then brought out the flaming Christmas Pudding to loud cheers from around the table. Harry and Albus both twisted their faces and piled their plates with treacle tart.

‘… and I turned my back for a second, and that’s when the little devil did _this_,’ said Charlie, pointing to his lower leg. He had carefully rolled up the bottom of his right trouser leg, revealing a nasty-looking bite. It was all red and swollen and looked rather painful. The skin around the bite was a sickly green colour.

‘Put it away, Charlie!’ cried Mrs Weasley. ‘Some of us are still eating!’ She pointed to Lily, who licked at her spoon, not once looking away from her uncle’s gory wound. Like his cousin, Hugo was not at all put off by Charlie's dragon bite, he actually edged forward and gawped at it with an awestruck expression on his face.

‘What kind of dragon did you say it was, Uncle Charlie?’ asked a grimacing Albus.

‘A Peruvian Vipertooth,’ said Charlie. ‘Came in a fortnight ago.’

They all took one last look at the bite before Charlie rolled down his trouser leg and resumed eating his Christmas Pudding. Once finished, Harry and Hermione aided Mrs Weasley in clearing the table.

‘Uncle Charlie,’ said Rose suddenly. ‘I thought Peruvian Vipertooth dragons were highly venomous?’

‘Usually, yeah. Lucky for me, this one hadn’t reached full maturity yet. Still a baby, thank Merlin.’

‘I was bitten by a baby dragon once,’ chimed Ron, but Mr Weasley spoke over him.

‘Promise me you’ll get it checked before you fly back to Romania, Charlie,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you getting dragon pox. Horrible, _horrible_ disea– ’

‘ – stop worrying, Dad! Honestly, I’ve had worse bites than this,’ protested Charlie. ‘And I saw a Healer right after it happened. She said it should clear up in a few days. And you’re forgetting that I’ve already _had_ dragon pox!’

Mr Weasley scoffed, but insisted on having the last word.

‘While you’re here, you should drop in and see Professor Skelly up in Hogsmeade. Ask him to give you the all-clear,’ he said. ‘Just in case.’

Scorpius turned sharply, just as Rose nudged him in the ribs. Albus narrowed his eyes.

‘As if I’m going to bother Professor Skelly with something as silly as this,’ said Charlie.

‘Who’s Professor Skelly?’ said Albus, coyly playing with the last of his pudding. Hermione re-entered and sat down beside Rose, who was listening too intently to notice.

‘He’s a Healer, Albus,’ said Mr Weasley. ‘Marvellous man, and an even better wizard. Years ago, when Voldemort’s snake attacked me, Professor Skelly was the Healer who got me back on my feet. The two Healers on the ward did all they could for me, but it was old Skelly who got me fighting fit again. I had only heard of him before then... his reputation proceeded him. He specialises in powerful curses and hexes, that sort of thing, or at least he did.’

‘D’you remember he came here just before Bill and Fleur’s wedding?’ said Charlie. ‘Dropped everything when he heard about George’s ear and wanted to check it over himself.’

‘He sent me a letter just after the election,’ said Hermione, ‘congratulating me, which I thought was sweet. And he made a point of coming to see me at the first meeting of the Wizengamot afterwards.’

‘Like I said – marvellous man,’ mused Mr Weasley.

With Charlie’s leg out of sight, the topic of conversation quickly turned to Quidditch. Ron talked loudly and animatedly about the Chudley Cannons’ unsurprising loss in their last game. James joined him, expressing his desire for their manager to allow him off the substitutes bench – maybe then they’d actually be able to win a game, he said. Draco sat listening quietly at the other end of the table, sipping mulled wine from a tabby cat-shaped mug, occasionally shooting dark looks in Ron’s direction.

‘So does Professor Skelly still work at St Mungo’s?’ said Albus quietly to Charlie. Charlie loved Quidditch, and he didn't look best pleased at being dragged out of the conversation.

‘Fancy being a Healer yourself, Al?’ said Charlie with snigger as he ruffled Albus’s hair. ‘Why? What’s up?’

‘No, it’s not that,’ muttered Albus, trying his utmost not to seem irritated by the intrusion on his hair. ‘I was just curious that’s all. He just sounds like… an interesting man.’

‘OK,’ drawled Charlie, clearly not at all convinced. ‘No, he doesn’t. Old Skelly retired years ago – what’s this all about, Albus? Is everything all right with you? Is something wrong with you… or a friend? Is something worrying you?’

Charlie placed a reassuring hand on Albus’s shoulder and stared at him earnestly.

‘No – no, I’m fine. _Really_. Honestly, Uncle Charlie, I’m fine. I was just curious, really.’

Charlie sighed but didn’t take his eyes from his nephew.

‘What are you up to, Albus?’ he said. ‘You’ve got that look in your eye.’

‘What look?’

‘The Weasley look. The way Fred and George looked just before they'd disappear off into their room, getting up to no good... the same look your Mum would have on her face after she'd stolen my broom to practise her flying up in the orchard... the same look James had when he put flobberworms in my brand new dragonhide boots four Christmases ago! You're up to something.’

‘Maybe it’s just my face, Uncle Charlie,’ grinned Albus.

‘Well as long as that’s all it is,’ frowned Charlie as he walked off.

Scorpius got up from his seat, keen on speaking to Albus and Rose, but Mrs Weasley patted him gently on the arm. He hadn’t noticed her coming back into the room.

‘Scorpius, dear,’ she said with a warm smile. ‘I have a gift for you.’

The room fell silent as Mrs Weasley pushed a soft brown paper parcel into Scorpius’s hands. She stood back, her cheeks all scarlet and cheery. The room fell silent.

‘Open it.’

Scorpius did, carefully at first, but ripped into it after some encouragement from Albus, James and Lily. Rose remained silent, but had a wide grin etched on her face. Inside the parcel was a knitted jumper, emerald-green in colour with a large serpentine S emblazoned in silver on the front.

‘Mrs Weasley,’ gushed Scorpius, ‘thank you… I – ’

Mrs Weasley enveloped Scorpius in a hug and whispered, ‘Rosie said you might like one of my famous jumpers.’ As they parted, Scorpius could have sworn that she’d winked at him. He threw the jumper on immediately to resounding cheers and whoops from around the room.

Scorpius had never experienced a Christmas Day like it, even when his Mum had been alive. It had always been the three of them – Mum, Dad and himself. There were always lots of presents and food and excitement, but Christmas at the Burrow was on another level altogether.

Someone had turned the radio on, which everyone sang along (Mrs Weasley sang the loudest) and danced to. Scorpius knew the words to a song or two, tunes and melodies he had heard his Mum humming or singing from her bed. Everyone was laughing and smiling, Scorpius too, alongside Albus and Rose. He checked for his Dad, eager to see him smiling too, but Draco was nowhere to be found.

Scorpius found him in the garden sitting on a battered old bench. He was looking up into the stars. The bench squeaked as Scorpius sat on it. The bushes behind them rustled as two wrestling gnomes fell out of it, fighting over a rogue bit of tinsel.

‘Are you all right?’

Draco nodded.

‘I was just having a moment with your mother,’ he said.

Scorpius frowned. He had woken that morning thinking of her, his Mum, as he often did, remembering the Christmases they had shared before she died. Scorpius was ashamed to think that she hadn’t been on the forefront of his mind constantly throughout the day, like when he was tucking into Mrs Weasley’s dinner, or laughing with Albus and Rose. How could she have slipped so easily from his thoughts?

‘I think she’d have liked today,’ he said, feeling rather abashed.

‘I do too,’ said Draco. ‘Like you, she loved Christmas. She even got me round to the idea of liking it.’

He paused, breathing loudly.

‘She’s missed out on so much,’ he said. In the light of the moon and stars, Scorpius saw his Dad’s eyes fill with tears.

Scorpius felt awkward, completely unsure of what to say or do. He gripped his Dad’s arm gently and squeezed, the sort of thing he’d expect his Mum to have done to comfort someone, but no words came out of his mouth. Draco placed his hand on top of Scorpius’s and wiped away his tears with the other.

Draco looked down at his left forearm, where their hands rested, and pulled away suddenly as if burnt. He uttered an apology, but Scorpius shook his head, for he understood. The dulcet tones of the Weasley clan drifted out into the garden, but neither Malfoy seemed to notice. Father and son sat together in silence for a moment or two.

‘You and Rose,’ said Draco suddenly, catching Scorpius completely off guard. ‘How long’s that been going on?’

‘A-a while,’ stammered Scorpius. ‘Is it that obvious?’

‘I saw the two of you at dinner. The way you looked at each other, how much you blushed every time your hands brushed against each other’s,’ chuckled Draco. ‘Is it serious?’

‘I think so,’ said Scorpius. ‘I mean, I’d like to think so. I’ve liked her for ages. But I wasn’t sure for the longest time whether she liked me at all.’

‘I was the same with your Mum,’ said Draco. ‘Not knowing if she liked me, I mean. And she with me, as it turned out.’

‘Rose knew how I felt, of that I’m certain,’ said Scorpius. ‘I made my feelings towards her quite apparent. Sometimes when I’m with Rose I think about you and Mum, wondering if we’ll ever have what you both had. Wondering if I’ll ever have that with someone – anyone – at all.’

Draco chuckled lightly and murmured something under his breath.

‘”_… a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove; In the Spring a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love._’”

‘_W-what_?’ said Scorpius.

‘It’s nothing,’ said Draco. ‘You’re young, Scorpius, with your whole life ahead of you – ’

‘But it’s not just that, Dad. Sometimes I think and I imagine all sorts of futures and scenarios, and what could have been, or should have happened, or will happen… sometimes it feels like I have too many thoughts for one person. I want to achieve and do so much, but my mind imagines and thinks up too much for my brain to handle, until it feels like it will explode. But all I really want… is to make you and Mum proud.’

‘You _do_ make us proud, Scorpius. Every single day. You could never disappoint us, you know that, right?’

Scorpius tilted his head and melted into his dad’s shoulder. Draco put his arm around Scorpius and hugged him in close. They sat together, in silence once again, and Scorpius allowed for his dad’s words to sink in and take root.

‘I have something for you,’ said Draco, clutching something at the top of his robes. Scorpius sat up, bemused, knowing they had already exchanged Christmas gifts that morning. On a thin chain around his neck was a silver ring, small and petite, with a shining star-shaped diamond set in it.

‘This was your Mum’s,’ he said, handing it to Scorpius. ‘It was a family heirloom; it belonged to her grandmother, I believe. She wanted you to have it when you came of age, and I know I’m a few months late, but I hope she’ll forgive me. Selfishly, I wanted to keep hold of it just a little longer.’

Scorpius examined the ring, his mouth agape. It was a beautiful ring. The diamond was large and slightly opaque. Under the light of the moon and stars, it appeared misty and opaque, like a swirling fret trapped in the heart of the precious stone.

‘Thank you,’ whispered Scorpius, and placed the chain around his neck. He tucked it under his new Weasley jumper; the ring rested somewhere over his heart.

‘We should make tracks,’ said Draco, glancing at his watch. ‘I’ll be in in a moment. Go give your thanks, say bye to _Rose_.’

Scorpius sniggered and started walking back up to the house. He stopped suddenly as a distant memory emerged.

‘“_I remembered one that perish’d; sweetly did she speak and move: Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was to love_.”’

‘_What_?’ uttered Draco.

‘Tennyson,’ said Scorpius, ‘Mum’s favourite.’

He left his Dad in the garden, listening to the sounds of squabbling gnomes, and breathing in the cool, fresh air.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years... but I'm back! Hope you enjoy this chapter x


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